


Solivagant

by notjustmom



Series: Words, Words, Words [125]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Gen, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, a bit angsty-ish, post-Return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:51:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5918005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>solivagant: adjective: so-LIV-ih-gunt: characterized by lone wandering</p><p>from Latin, no other etymology found (aka Google failed me this morning)</p><p>Updated to add Manon_de_Sercoeur's kind translation:</p><p>lat. solus: alone, lonely (fr.seul)<br/>vago, vagare: to err (fr.errer, vagabonder)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solivagant

He was a bit different upon his return, not surprising, he had been gone for two years and had done things he still wouldn't speak of, but to John's amazement, he seemed to fall back into their routine almost seamlessly, as if he had only been out for milk...but he never bought milk before he left....

John realized the biggest change was his almost obsessive need to walk for hours at a time, he had become solivagant, perhaps because he had the freedom to just go, one moment he was there, on his laptop, or deeply involved with some experiment, usually involving a lovely specimen, courtesy of Molly...yes...that was still the same, then he would get up, throw on his coat and scarf, even in June and without a word was gone. He was never gone overnight, somehow he sensed John would panic, always came home with milk, or take-away, something for John, always something for John...and then he would go to bed.

John never asked, he was never invited to go with him, and he accepted it as just a part of having him back. All things considered, life was so much better with Sherlock there, living, breathing, almost within reach. It was almost enough, but there were nights when John wanted to open Sherlock's door and slide in next to him, simply sleep curled against him. Simply breathe him in...

"John?"

"Oh. Sorry. Didn't hear you come in, have a good walk?"

"Uh-hmmm."

"Are you ok?"

Sherlock was kneeling in front of John's chair and was looking him over, as if deducing him all over again. Finally, he sighed and tentatively reached for John's hand. 

"Thank you." He whispered.

"For what?"

"For allowing me time. I know you have questions, you deserve answers, you want to know why I walk, leaving you here...I...wish, I wish you knew how much...damn."

"Shhh..."

"Hmmm...I should have found a way not to hurt you when I left...if I could have taken you with me, I would have, I'm that selfish...I walk when my head is too full of you...I walk because I know you will always be here when I get back...arrogant sod that I am...I know...I always bring you something when I return so you know I thought of you when I was away, not just out walking...but..."

John blinked hard and nodded. "I know."

"I wish I were a better person, John. You know who I am...you do, perhaps you are the only one who does...I don't deserve you, I have no right to ask you, no right to tell you how I feel about you, but I would spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy if..."

John shook his head. "Please..."

"I find myself in a unique situation...I truly don't know, I can't deduce what is in your heart, so I'm uhm..."

John uses his free hand to tangle his fingers into the curls he could write sonnets about, if he could remember how to write a sonnet and pulls his friend into a kiss. 

"Breathe, love, please? You don't know how long I've wanted to do that..."

Sherlock pulls back and slowly looks up into John's blazing blue eyes, full of unshed tears and love, and realizes they reflect his own unspoken vows, yet to be written.


End file.
